Revelation
by freudian fuckup
Summary: Remus Lupin is very tired and sore, and not nearly as annoyed as he'd like to be that one Sirius Black will not let him bloody sleep. Slightly angsty, first time.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is complete, but not completely posted-- it will be 4 chapters in all, and should be up within the next week. Happy reading! (and reviews are made of awesome)**

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"Siriuuuuuusss," Remus groaned loudly as the bed indented beside him, causing him to slide into Sirius's lap.

"Come_on_, Moony, someone's got to entertain me!"

"No. Sleeping. Tired. Find James."

"He's off impregnating Evans."

"Wormtail. Go. Leammelone."

"Argh, Wormtail's passed out in the common room. Had about a barrel of firewhiskey and Richards punched him in the mouth. Says Peter insulted his mum, but _personally_, I think he was being overly sensitive, his mother _does_ have a bit of a beard," said Sirius, making himself comfortable.

"Sirius, the full moon was only the other night and I'm still exhausted. Clear off and find someone else to play with, will you?" pleaded Remus, shoving his head beneath his pillow.

Remus groaned once more as Sirius slid under the blankets and sidled up to the tired werewolf. This was very irritating. It had been a particularly violent change, and with his fellow Marauders in detention, a lonely one as well. They were always worse when he was alone. Without the others, Remus tended to wake up cold and bloody and confused, and the recovery period was always days rather than hours. When they were there though, waking up was generally a matter of tangled limbs and sometimes a large black puppy snuggled against his chest. All this notwithstanding, Remus didn't mind Sirius being in his bed nearly as much as he let on. He really _wanted_ to want Sirius gone, but he didn't, and that annoyed him.

"Poor, poor Moony. All alone in that pitiful shack. I'm so sorry we couldn't be there to keep you company, but McGonagall didn't take kindly to our little prank in the Great Hall. Kept going on about "thousands of galleons of damage" and "disrespecting the ancients" or some shite. I think she was overreacting—" Sirius usually thought others were overreacting, "—but she didn't let us out till damn near morning."

Remus grunted noncommittally. He'd known from the moment James got that look in his eye that not only were they actually going to try and turn the whole of the Great Hall red and gold and musical, but that they were going to be flayed for it. He hadn't even asked them to come, knowing they couldn't, but it bothered him a little that Sirius made it sound like he was being a nancy for wanting company. It bothered him a lot, actually, and few things truly bothered Remus Lupin, besides Sirius Black, of course.

"Was it really so terrible? Had to sleep on the ground, no one to romp with, I can see why you're pouting—"

"I'm not pouting!" Remus shouted, throwing his pillow aside violently and looking up at Sirius.

"Calm_down_, Moony. Christ, don't hurt yourself," Sirius said, looking infuriatingly calm.

Remus wanted to say something smart, but the rapid movement really _had_ hurt, and he worried the largest of his cuts might have reopened. Not that Sirius needed know as much.

"Honestly, Moony, it's not like we _wanted_ to be in detention. We're the ones who got screwed, where do you get off sulking?" said Sirius, with a crookedly charming half-smile, signaling he was mostly joking. Remus didn't care.

"Sulking?! You think _I'm_ sulking? You ridiculous, arrogant twat! Yeah, some big sacrifice- it's your own bloody fault for trying such a _stupid_ prank. Honestly, did you think they weren't going to notice the whole hall singing the Gryffindor Quidditch song _that you wrote_?! Meanwhile, while you're off writing lines or scrubbing cauldrons or whatever-the-blazes, I was busy tearing my own fucking skin apart! Sulking, honestly." and with a huff, Remus turned his back on the other boy, but not before appreciating the look of shock and disbelief on Sirius's face.

The Marauders in general were a loud bunch. James never stopped boasting, Peter never stopped joking, and Sirius just never stopped—but Remus was never like them. In fact, he could track on one hand the number of times he'd truly shouted at any of his friends, and none of those fingers would stand for Yelling At Sirius Black. It simply wasn't done.

There was a lengthy silence, during which Remus wondered if Sirius had fallen asleep. Part of him hoped so, as he didn't particularly feel like dealing with whatever Sirius was going to say, but another part of him was going to be supremely annoyed if Sirius had gone and dozed off while Remus worked himself into a genuine rage. Finally, the bed shifted once more until Remus could feel the heat coming off Sirius's body, centimeters away.

"Moony?" a voice whispered in Remus's ear.

"Yeah?" Remus sighed.

"How… how bad was it?"

"What? My err—transformation? It was, erm…" he could feel himself blushing in the dark, certain that Sirius would take the mickey out of him if he made it sound too dramatic. "It was worse than usual," he said levelly.

"How much worse?" said Sirius, sounding honestly curious. Remus could practically _feel_ him cock his head to the side in his most adorable innocent puppy impression. Again, the mattress moved and this time Sirius's right arm pressed against Remus's own.

"Worse. It was worse, alright?" Remus whispered tiredly into the mattress.

Again, silence stretched between them, and this time, Remus _hoped_ Sirius had dozed off. Remus never was terribly lucky.

At first, he thought he was imagining it, but there was definitely a hand on the small of his back and it seemed to be lifting his shirt ever so gently. At the same time, Remus felt the covers being pulled away.

"Padfoot… what are you doing?" asked Remus cautiously, his voice about an octave higher than normal.

"I just wanna see, that's all."

"See_what_?"

"How bad it was—is."

Remus panicked. It wasn't that he was _ashamed_ of his scars, per say, but he didn't particularly enjoy showing them off, especially like this. Feeling very exposed, Remus tried to sit up, tried to cover up, but Sirius held him down.

"Relax, I'm not the one that bites," Sirius said with a laugh riding his voice.

This did not help Remus relax, but he submitted, knowing better than to argue. When Sirius Black wanted something, there was no dissuading him. James and Dumbledore were perhaps the only ones in history to exert any control over Sirius's whims, though the former exercised his power far less frequently than the latter would have preferred. Remus on the other hand was probably a foot shorter than Sirius and not the most forceful of souls, so he lay still and made a valiant attempt at auto-asphyxiation with his remaining pillow.

For a second time, Remus felt his nightshirt being lifted and the cool night air rushed against his skin. He gave a shiver, only partially due to the cold. It seemed to take hours, but finally, Sirius had Remus's shirt pulled up to his shoulders. It wasn't so bad, really, and Remus breathed a sigh of relief. Not that he wanted to ever _ever_ do this again, but it wasn't quite as humiliating as he'd expected. At the very least, Sirius wasn't making any snide remarks just yet.

"Oh, Moony…" Sirius breathed. If he hadn't known better, Remus would have thought he heard sympathy in his voice, but sympathy was well outside Sirius's emotional range, which basically consisted of mischievous and horny.

Almost imperceptibly, fingertips began roaming over Remus's exposed skin, touching and tracing the scratched and scars. Remus bit down on his pillow and silently prayed for it to end. As though reading his thoughts, Sirius suddenly stopped, but before Remus had a chance to be appreciative, Sirius was on him, straddling his back, sitting on the backs of his thighs.

The weight forced Remus's groin into the bed, and it was then that he realized with creeping horror that he was more than a little interested. Not that this was unusual. In fact, almost any time Sirius landed in his bed, Remus found himself a bit _too_ interested. The only comfort in any of this was that once or twice, Remus could have sworn Sirius was hard too, although for Sirius it was probably some weird biological reaction, while for Remus these inappropriately timed erections were often accompanied by equally inappropriate thoughts—like about scenarios quite similar to this one.

"Siriuuuuusss," Remus whined into the bedding.

"Shhhh… I just… I wanna look, 'right?"

But he wasn't just looking. The weightless touches had turned into strong, smooth caresses, following the lines on Remus's flesh like a map. Sirius's hands were sweaty and hot and felt surreal on Remus's cool skin, contrasting the chill in the air. Soon, fingers became open palms, and Sirius was running his hands up and down Remus's spine, warming the skin and teasing the muscles. Remus felt as though his body was melting as all his muscles unwound; however, every time Sirius shifted forward, Remus's cock rubbed against the bed, the friction doing nothing to dissuade his erection.

"_Remus_."

"Huurhhghh?"

"Remus."

"Wha?" said Remus, drifting back to consciousness.

"Turn over."

"What?"

"Roll over, yeah?" Sirius said, a little impatiently. Remus was about to be annoyed by his tone when he noticed something that made his blood still—something hard brushing the small of his back every time Sirius rocked forward.

Before Remus could move, Sirius was rolling him onto his back, still straddling his waist. When they settled back in, Sirius was very nearly sitting on Remus's cock, and there was no way he could overlook Remus's arousal. Too embarrassed to breathe, Remus lay still, waiting for the biting comment that doubtlessly come. No matter that Sirius was hard as well, he could be quite the hypocrite. Strangely though, the comment never came, and soon Sirius was unbuttoning Remus's shirt, which had fallen back into place when they moved.

When Remus finally dared open his eyes, Sirius was staring down at his chest with painful intensity. His fingers glided over the buttons on Remus's nightshirt with a proficiency that reeked of hands-on experience, which he certainly had plenty of. His eyes though, stormy and grey, didn't show disgust or even heat, but deep, crippling sadness. Remus's breath caught in his throat as he watched Sirius undress him, gentle but hurried. When at last all the buttons had been undone, Sirius slowly separated the shirt, pushing it off Remus's bony shoulders. Those grey eyes went immediately to the most recent set of cuts, four or five deep gashes across Remus's chest, running from his left shoulder nearly to his bellybutton.

"Oh Moony," Sirius said, his voice barely audible. His hands remained pinned at his sides, and Remus chastised himself for thinking that Sirius would even _consider_ touching him once he saw the mess of red lines on his skin.

"Couldn't… Why didn't Pomfrey mend you?" Sirius asked, his voice more steady but still cautious.

"She can't. Not when I've done it to myself," Remus said, matter-of-factly.

Sirius's eyes widened. "Yourself? But you've never done anything like that before. What in the hell happened?"

Remus smiled a sad little smile. "I have. Dozens of times. Just—just not with you all around. As long as you're there I… I don't know. I don't understand how it works, I doubt anyone does, but when you're with me it's not as bad. I feel a little more human and… and it's not as _violent_. Before—when I was a kid— I nearly killed myself about twenty times. This really isn't so bad," he finished, offering another half-smile.

For a long while, Sirius just stared. His eyes roved the landscape of Remus's chest. "I didn't know," he said simply. "You never told me. _You never once told me_. Damn it, Moony, if you'd told me I'd have _been there_!" said Sirius, eyes flaring with anger as his voice rose to a shout.

Remus trembled, startled by Sirius's outrage. "I… I never thought… You couldn't have come, Pads, you had detention!"

"I'd have skipped it, you idiot!"

"I know, but you can't just go skipping out on McGonagall on my account. She's more likely to eat you alive than I am!"

"Of course I can, you think I'd have just left you to die in some stupid shack? I'd have been there, Moony, I swear I would have," Sirius said, less angry this time. "What if you'd bled to death or something? Did you even think about that?"

"I… well, I thought about it, but… but it didn't seem like there was anything for it. I couldn't ask you to come."

"Fuck, Moony, if I'd known, you wouldn't have had to ask," said Sirius solemnly.

Then there was nothing else to say. Remus just stared at the boy above him, a surge of affection and appreciation rushing over him so powerfully that he had to grip the sheets to keep from flinging his arms around Sirius's neck. Almost hesitantly, Sirius placed his right hand on Remus's chest, covering the worst of his wounds with his palm. Right over Remus's heart. For a moment, the werewolf worried that his speeding heartbeat would give him away, but he then discovered he didn't care. He wanted Sirius to understand exactly how much he loved him at that moment, even if the feeling wasn't reciprocal.

Slowly, Sirius resumed tracing the marks on Remus's body, gentle and careful and tender. When he brushed Remus's already-hard nipple, Remus gasped sharply.

"What? Did I hurt you?" Sirius asked, looking legitimately concerned.

"No… I—no," Remus replied articulately.

It was too intense, and when Remus finally could take no more, he shut his eyes and focused solely on the sensation—sweat and skin on skin, brushing, touching, caressing. The sting of injury and the sweet, perfect feeling of fingertips and palms.

And then Remus thought he must have fallen asleep, because there was simply no way that Sirius could be doing what it felt like he was doing. Remus opened his eyes cautiously, afraid he might wake up. Before him, a head of black hair was bent over his chest, moving slowly from left to right. Lips brushed against Remus's cuts, so soft, it might have been accidental, were it not for the slight sound of kisses being pressed to his skin. Suddenly, Sirius was looking up at him, eyes narrow and questioning, as though asking for permission. And Sirius Black never asked permission.

Careful of Remus's chest, Sirius drew himself up, so that his face hovered but a few inches above Remus's. The smaller boy opened his mouth several times in rapid succession, searching for something to say that might adequately express his feelings at that moment, but there was nothing. There were no words. And then it didn't matter, because Sirius was getting closer and closer and there was no distance between them and his lips were on Remus's lips, and there was breath in Remus's mouth that was not his own.

In the mad dreams Remus had had about kissing Sirius Black, it was always frantic and rough. Hard lips and punishing tongue. There was always a sense of urgency and need and Sirius always moved just a bit too fast and pushed just a bit too hard, but that was alright, because that was how Sirius did everything.

This was nothing like that. For a long time, neither moved. They simply sat there, lips touching, breathing against one another's skin. No pressure, no movement, just contact. Hand to chest, lips to lips, legs to legs, skin to skin, flesh to blood. At some point, Remus realized his eyes were shut, but it hardly mattered, he was accustomed to picturing Sirius's face at moments like this. When he looked up, Sirius gazed down at him, unblinking, eyes awash with something soft and warm that Remus didn't recognize.

Then their lips were moving, pressing and pushing against one another, hot and damp and slow. Sirius's tongue darted across Remus's bottom lip, and the werewolf opened his mouth in a plea that never came. More contact, more heat. Slowly, their tongues intertwined, Sirius's dragging along Remus's, while Remus explored every inch of Sirius's mouth, memorizing it, just in case he woke up.

For a long while, they just kissed. Not even made out or snogged or anything so crude, but kissed. Finally, when he thought he might die without more, Remus reached a hand hesitantly around to Sirius's back, slipping beneath his arm. He ran his palm across Sirius's skin, marveling at the feel of smooth, unblemished texture. It had been years since he'd experienced such a thing.

As though the flood gates had sprung open, Sirius reached down with one hand and nearly lifted Remus off the bed. Still supporting his own weight and careful of Remus's injuries, Sirius pulled him in and held him very close. With this shift, Remus could feel Sirius's cock digging into his stomach, which made his own erection ache with renewed interest. With a whimper, he bucked his hips upward, grinding against Sirius before relaxing back onto the bed. Sirius took this as some kind of signal and slid down slightly, so that their cocks aligned through their pajamas.

It was intensely gorgeous, and Remus couldn't help but moan. Sirius smiled against his mouth and released his grasp around Remus's chest. Before the smaller boy could complain, Sirius was slipping his hand between them, under the waistband of Remus's pajamas and past his boxers. With one deft motion, Remus felt his cock spring free of his clothing as Sirius pushed his pajama pants down to his knees before repeating the maneuver on himself. A wave of pleasure washed over Remus when at last their cocks touched. The sensation of hot flesh on flesh was so acute, he worried he might come that instant. But then Sirius did something incredible and the sensation intensified, as though it were possible.

One arm still keeping himself elevated, Sirius wrapped his right hand around both of their cocks and began to rock back and forth with agonizing caution. Remus groaned and arched, urging him on, pleading with his body for more friction, more speed, but even as he did, he felt the wounds on his chest strain and burn. Remus let out a small cry before he could stop himself.

"Alright?"

"Yeah… yeah. Fine—argghh!" Remus twisted a little as the aching on his skin intensified. "Don't quit… don't… stop…" he whispered between waves of pain.

"Shhh…" Sirius whispered.

Remus didn't look as Sirius pulled away. Tears stung his eyes, but he refused to look, unsure whether he could stand to watch him walk away. Beneath his burning skin, a cold, heavy pain settled in his chest as the bed jostled and Sirius's heat evaporated. It had been too fucking perfect, much too perfect to be happening to him, and now it was over and fuck knew what kind of damage it would cause.

But then there was wet, hot suction on the tip of Remus's cock and he lost his train of thought. All the rejection and longing flew away at light speed and were replaced by overwhelming warmth. Sirius's tongue lingered on the head of Remus's erection before gliding along the underside, caressing the thick vein there. Now the tears streaming down Remus's cheeks had nothing to do with the pain in his chest—which was rapidly subsiding.

With each suck, Sirius took him in a little deeper, swallowing him, inch by aching inch. Swallowing all the pain and longing and desperation and loneliness. As he began to work in earnest, Remus could feel his balls constrict and the familiar warmth pool in his groin. Hastily, he reached down, brushing the top of Sirius's head.

"I'm going to—gonna… ahh…" he stuttered incoherently.

Sirius looked up at him for just a moment, eyes wide with acknowledgement, before sucking even more fiercely than before. Remus moaned, letting his head fall back, and shuddered as he gave himself over to Sirius's mouth. With one last lick, Remus came, shaking and sweating and still crying (though he'd never admit it) into Sirius's warm, damp mouth. Every inch of skin and bone seemed to dissipate, until he was nothing but warmth and wholeness. In three near-painful bursts, he shot his release down Sirius's throat, and Sirius swallowed, licking and sucking until Remus went soft.

Sirius crawled up the bed and collapsed along side the now delirious werewolf. Neither moved or spoke until finally Remus felt he should say _something_ to show his endless appreciation.

"I—You… That was incredible."

Sirius just smiled and drew the covers over them both. Without thinking, Remus curled into Sirius's heat, fitting his back to Sirius's front. It was then that he realized that Sirius was still hard and unfulfilled.

"You—I should… You didn't, you know…"

"S'alright. Relax. Go to sleep," Sirius whispered calmly.

"But—"

"Shut up, Moony. I said 'relax'. Merlin!" Sirius repeated with an air of exasperation that Remus was pretty sure was put on.

An arm found its way around Remus's waist and suddenly his eyelids grew unreasonably heavy, and he knew no more.

When he awoke the following morning, Sirius was gone, and Remus wondered briefly whether it had all been a dream—but then he noticed his shirt, still undone, and his pajama bottoms around his knees, and somehow, this was comforting. Because even if it had been stupid and potentially friendship-ending, there was no denying what he'd seen in Sirius's eyes, and Remus was sure he'd be haunted by their stormy grey for the rest of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius never fell asleep. It was too risky. He was pretty sure that if he gave himself over to the warm little figure curled against him, he wouldn't wake up for a very long time, possibly until James or Peter came in the next morning, and that would have been very bad. Instead, he just lay there, staring into the dark, waiting for his uncomfortable arousal to subside.

There were two things wrong with this scenario, in Sirius's mind:

1. He hadn't come. Not since second year had Sirius snogged _anything_ without getting off. In fact, a fair portion of the time, Sirius came without doing much for whoever he was with—not the other way around. _Ever_.

2. He was still there. Not that he could think of anyplace he'd rather be, but still. Sirius made it a rule not to hang about more than a few minutes—set a bad precedent, built up expectations, he figured. So when two hours later he still found himself wound around little Lupin, who lay curled into his side like a child, the fact that he had no desire to move was more than a little unnerving.

You see, both of these things reeked of besotted girlishness or emotional involvement or something equally ridiculous, and frankly, it pissed Sirius off. Staring down at Remus in the dark, he had the overwhelming urge to smack him hard in the mouth for being so goddamn warm and soft and fragile looking and—fuck, not the right thoughts to be having.

Gradually, Sirius disentangled himself from Remus's sleeping form, and crawled out of the bed, resolved not to look back. He lay in his own bed until seven or eight, then stumbled out of the dormitory and down to breakfast.

Complete exhaustion was an understatement. Sirius felt as though he'd been the victim of a very nasty jinx, and James' incessant blabbering was nothing short of annoying. He'd found James in the common room drawing on an unconscious Peter, and without meaning to, had given James the impression that he wanted company for breakfast. On the way to the Great Hall, he'd gotten a full, vivid account of his evening with Evans, and as they served themselves, James was on to his usual moaning about how _amazing_ and _perfect_ she was. It was sickening.

"I swear, Padfoot, she makes me want to _do_ things. Fuck, I think I'd give up pranks if she asked me."

"She has asked you. Loudly and frequently."

"But I mean _really_ asked me. Christ, she's just so damn… I don't know! There aren't any words for it! I swear, sometimes when we're snogging, I think my intestines are doing some form of interpretive dance and my head's about to fall off."

"Well, the sex must be deadly then," Sirius replied dryly.

"The lack thereof maybe."

"_The lack_—Prongs, don't tell me you're not even getting any!" said Sirius, almost as shocked as he was amused. He'd always assumed Evans was a really good lay or something, what else could possibly warrant such blatant gushing?

"Well… not exactly. But we do other stuff, and it's really incredible! Half the time I don't even care if I ever shag her—" Sirius raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "—alright, I _care_, but sometimes it's so_nice_, you know, that I honestly think I could never touch another girl and it'd be alright."

With that, Sirius launched into a fit of fake vomiting, gagging and gripping his throat dramatically. James chucked a biscuit at his head, but eventually smiled.

"Alright, alright, point taken. So, what did you and Moony get up to while I was out?" said James with a mischievous look.

Sirius's blood ran cold as he sputtered and choked around his half-chewed bit of toast. He'd been absolutely certain no one had seen them. Surely if James had snuck in during the night, Sirius would have heard. In fact, had James caught any fellow Marauder all cuddled up, there would have been some sort of press release followed by mass flayings and a stern recitation of the Manly Men's Code for Living. Apparently not.

"We… We err—wait, who says I was with Moony?" Sirius shot back defensively.

"You did, you silly git. When I left you got all annoyed and said you were off to wake Remus to keep you entertained. So did you two get up to anything interesting?"

"Oh. No, nothing much. He was being tired and Moonyish and _Oh Padfoot it's four in the morning_ and such. Very un-Marauder-like."

James shook his head sympathetically. "Well, that's Moony for you, never much of a party. Well, a tea party perhaps. Or some other sort of party with lots of scones and dust and sleeping at reasonable hours."

For some reason, this rubbed Sirius the wrong way, and he nearly let slip something about Moony's injuries, but caught himself in the nick of time. He settled for staring at the table and shoveling his food. After a few minutes companionable silence, James spoke up.

"So… Do you really think it's—err… abnormal? Me and Lily?"

"Of course it's abnormal. She's a willowy red-headed Aphrodite and you're, well, you've got the knobbliest knees I've ever seen. Honestly, like a snake swallowing a baseball, your legs."

James glared ominously, but rearranged his robes over his legs. "I _meant _the whole not shagging thing…"

"Oh… umm… Fuck, Prongs, I dunno," said Sirius, shifting uncomfortably. He really couldn't think of anything he wanted to discuss _less_ than James' sex life. Well, except perhaps his _own_ sex life. Or Moony's sex life (if such a thing existed) (which he liked to think it didn't).

"I could've done'er loads of times. Probably. But she's just so _pretty_, and some of the time—and I swear if you tell anyone I said this I'll hex your knob off—I just want to _hold_ her. And just _be with_ her. It's sick, isn't it?"

"That _is_ sick, mate," Sirius said, feeling a bit ill himself, unable to keep from remembering the feeling of wanting to lie beside someone and just watch them breathe. Sirius had been accused of being sick loads of times, but this is the closest he's ever come to believing it.

"Morning all!" said a voice from behind Sirius. He didn't bother turning around, he could tell by the dreamy, silly look on Prongs' face who it was. And by the way James was trying to eat his cereal with a fork.

"G'morning gorgeous," Sirius said casually.

"Morni—oh, fuck!" James cried, tipping a large jug of pumpkin juice into Sirius's lap. Prongs was significantly more accident prone with Evans around.

"Merlin, that's cold!"

"Here, lemme tidy it," James nearly shouted, brandishing his wand.

"No, no, it's alright. I need to shower anyway. Leave it—just leave it!" he shrieked, pushing James' arm away. Honestly, Sirius was just pleased to have an excuse to miss the morning mush session that was sure to ensue. Without bothering to apologize, he extricated himself from the table and quickly exited the hall.

On the way to the common room he passed Wormtail, looking very tired and cranky and very unaware of the large bit of male anatomy etched on his left cheek in what Sirius could only assume to be permanent ink. Most of the other students though seem to still be sleeping, which was understandable for nine on a Saturday. The common room was relatively empty, and Sirius barreled through and into the dorm without thinking.

"Oh. S'you," muttered a very sleepy looking Lupin, snatching the covers up to his chest. Copper hair stood at odd angles like a large feathery bird had nested on his head, and his eyes were all hazy and unfocused. Everything about him looked _soft_ somehow, and Sirius had to fight the disturbing impulse to cuddle him.

"Yeah. Morning," Sirius replied awkwardly.

He stood in the doorway a moment, unsure whether to flee or go and shower like nothing had happened. Before he could decide though, Lupin looked away and began buttoning his shirt nervously.

"Right. Shower. See you later then," said Sirius, charging through the room and into the loo. He didn't turn around or stop moving until the door was shut, locked, and warded. Before he turned on the shower, Sirius could swear he heard a small, painful noise echoing from the other room, but he refused outright to wonder what it meant, and stepped into the steaming hot water.


	3. Chapter 3

Fuck. This wasn't good. It wasn't necessarily disastrous _yet_, but there would be time for that later, once all the involved parties were awake and clothed.

Remus threw off the blankets as soon as Sirius shut the door and stood hurriedly.

"Ahhahaha!" he shouted, falling back into bed. It wasn't a sharp pain, just a dull, throbbing ache all over his skin, and he kicked himself for not taking it slowly. He knew better than to hop right out of bed, but at the time he'd wanted nothing more than to put as much distance as physically possible between Sirius and himself. For a few torturous minutes, Remus lay perfectly still on his back, waiting for the pain to subside and pointedly _not_ thinking about Sirius bathing ten meters away.

With some scrambling, Remus tried to collect enough clothing to be presentable. A shirt was easy enough, but most of his clothes seemed to be in the wash or lodged under furniture (one of the hazards of living with James and Sirius). By the time he located a pair of what could be mistaken for clean trousers, Sirius had emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

Remus froze mid-zip.

"Oh… err—that was, well, rather fast and are you sure that's enough time to shower properly because I... Oh bother," Remus muttered, giving a particularly shiny bit of floor his undivided attention.

"Yeah, well, how long does it take to get dressed and get out?" Sirius replied harshly.

Remus forced a laugh. "Couldn't find my trousers. Stuck under James' bed, they were. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"No."

"Right… 'course not."

"I said 'no', alright? I don't give a damn about you and your trousers."

"My—_what_?" Remus asked, trying desperately not to sound as dumbfounded as he felt.

"You, and your stupid trousers, and your clothes, and your scratches, and your problems, I don't care! I don't give a flying fuck!"

"What in Merlin's name are you on about, Padfoot? No one's asked you to!"

"You may as well have!"

"Are you joking?! I didn't even want to _tell_ you, you idiot! No, you don't get to be angry with me about this. If you weren't so fucking imperturbable, if you knew how to take 'no' for an answer none of this would've happened!" Remus yelled, hurling a nearby something-or-another in Sirius's general direction.

"You just push and push and push and then when things get too bloody _scary_, you panic! You're_scared_, Padfoot. You went too damn far and James isn't here to pull you out." Suddenly, Remus wasn't angry, but very tired. "Fuck," he sighed, sitting down on the bed with a thump. "I don't care. I'm glad you—you, you know, did, just… just don't blame this on me, please? I don't think I could bear it."

When Remus looked up, Sirius was frozen, one hand holding up his towel, the other holding a wrinkly white shirt. His eyes were unfocused, and he looked a little drunk. Suddenly, he threw aside the shirt and crossed the room to Remus's bed in three purposeful strides.

"Now listen. I won't, I won't do this. Not with you, not with anyone, alright?"

"Wha—do _what_?" Remus asked, utterly bewildered.

"This," he spat, gesturing vaguely between them. "Expectations. I don't _do_expectations, darling," he said with a bitter smile. "If you were some bird we wouldn't even be having this problem."

"Why? Because it's_ok_ if it's some girl, but if I want something from you, that makes me a freak?"

"No, because if _you_ expect something, I don't want to fuck it up!"

"Fuck _what_ up?!"

And then Sirius had him by the collar, yanking him up and crushing their lips together. _This_ was the Sirius Black that Remus had imagined. This had all the urgency and desperation of Remus's dreams, but amplified about a million fold. When he finally released the smaller boy, Sirius looked strangely surprised.

"Well… I can honestly say I didn't _expect _that."

Sirius laughed, loud and warm, and for a moment Remus could forget what was happening and get lost in the sound of it.

"I'm no good at this, Moony. I don't know what I was thinking. I probably wasn't... thinking I mean. I don't, a lot of the time, but you should know that by--"

"Sirius Black, you absolute git. Do you _really_ think I don't know what you're capable of? That I don't know what to expect? Honestly. You are so bloody thick sometimes."

Sirius sighed heavily, and settled his face into one of his haughtier expressions. "This is a terrible idea," he said, like he was delivering a eulogy.

"Yes, it is."

"And I'm not going to start being all nice to you or anything."

"Yes, I know."

"And there's a very decent chance I'll be even more obnoxious than before, just to make up for, you know, the snogging and whatnot."

"I am aware."

"And James can _never_ know. I swear, I don't even want to think—he'd never let me hear the end of—"

"Sirius?

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

"What?" Sirius said, looking surprised.

"Shut up, alright? I don't care, I really, honestly and throughly do not care."

"Well, well, where is that legendary Moony rationality? You needn't consult a book or make a run of the library or anything?"

"Fuck you."

"That's a thought."

"Oh," Remus replied, blushing deeply.

"But it's my turn I believe."

It took a moment for Remus to fathom this comment, since the events of the previous evening were still filed in his brain under something like "delusions" or "possible new symptoms of lycanthropy."

"Your turn—oh!"

"Come here," said Sirius quietly.

Remus leaned forward hesitantly, trying not to tremble. Sirius reached out and engulfed Remus in a great bear-hug, so tight Remus could barely breathe, but he didn't care. Sirius's fingers wound through the soft hair at the nape of Remus's neck, and Remus let out a small shuddery sound, in spite of himselfc Their lips and fingers tore at one another and Remus wasn't quite sure how, but somehow they ended up on Remus's bed, with Sirius's towel slipping dangerously low.

Sirius grabbed Remus's wand from the nightstand and warded the door so as to alert them if anyone approached. Then there was a hand in Remus's partially-zipped trousers and uncomfortably tight underpants, tugging them down. Sirius slid off the bed, taking the offending garments with him. He then made short work of Remus's buttons, nearly ripping the shirt in half. Somehow it seemed perfectly natural that they should be shagging less than twenty-four hours after even a hint of reciprocal affection. Sirius Black was of course nothing if not an absolute tramp, and Remus Lupin was nothing if not completely and utterly unable to resist him, as evidenced by Remus's spotty disciplinary record.

Somewhere in the chaos, Sirius's towel disappeared, and for the first time, Remus found himself face to face with Sirius's hard, perfect cock. It was long, like Sirius himself, and dark and red and practically throbbing. Remus shuddered in spite of himself at the thought of what was about to happen. As though sensing apprehension, Sirius lay back down at Remus's side and began to kiss along his neck. At first it was all lips and breath, but then Sirius began licking and sucking his way down Remus's throat. When he could stand it no more, Remus rolled himself on top of Sirius and ground their cocks together with near-violent urgency. Sirius literally squawked, and raised his head.

"Fuck, Remus, can't just do that without any warning!"

"Sorry," Remus laughed as Sirius's eyes nearly fell out of his head.

Sirius growled and rolled them over once again, so that he was on top and in control, as always.


	4. The End

Sirius felt insanely vulnerable and bizarrely out of control, so completely desperate with need for the ridiculous, paradoxical creature beneath him, he suddenly understood what James had meant about never wanting to be with anyone else. Moony was absolutely beautiful—there was no other way to describe it. Pale skin and bones and scars, a mass of hurt and love, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to strip him of his insecurity and make him understand how _perfect_ he was. Because how could anyone so incredible ever think anything less? So he set about trying, kissing and tonguing his way across every inch of skin, every inch of injury.

The entire time Remus kept making the most gorgeous, wanton sounds, twisting and rolling his hips in time with Sirius's ministrations. It was almost too much, and Sirius wondered if he'd ever really enjoyed someone_ else's_ pleasure so thoroughly. Every movement Remus made only intensified Sirius's own arousal, until he wanted nothing more than to fuck him straight through the floor, consequences be damned.

Without explanation, Sirius grabbed Lupin's wand once more and summoned a jar of thick, slick gel from his own nightstand. Remus's eyes widened a bit, but Sirius kissed them closed and went back to work. With one hand, he popped open the jar and gathered some of the lubricant on his fingers. Slowly, delicately, he reached between their bodies and began to circle Remus's entrance.

The werewolf choked a bit but didn't object. Sirius marveled at his own nervousness. He'd done this loads of times—not with Moony, or boys for that matter, but the basic anatomy was the same. Still, for some reason, he really wanted this to be perfect, not good or comfortable, but completely bloody perfect, and not just for himself. So, with remarkable control, Sirius sank one (trembling) digit into Remus's body.

They both gasped at once—Remus at the foreign sensation, Sirius at the tightness around his finger. When he was certain Moony was alright, he added a second finger, twisting and worrying and wondering if this was even remotely alright. Remus on the other hand, didn't seem to be thinking about much of anything-- taut with need and rolling his hips rhythmically.

Sirius smiled.

He'd never felt anything quite so incredible. The heat and pressure on his hand was unreal, and he didn't think he could go another minute without feeling that around his cock. With a wet noise, Sirius withdrew from the smaller boy's body. Remus began to look nervous in earnest.

"Sirius, do you—err… is this going to _hurt_ quite badly?"

Sirius smiled his most charming, reassuring smile, but even he could tell it was a little shy and crinkled around the edges.

"If I said it would, would you have me to stop?"

Remus chuckled uncomfortably. "Well, no, I suppose. But is it—Ahh!"

While Remus was stuttering, Sirius pressed the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscle. The heat was so intense, Sirius was sure it would burn him alive, leave him a smoldering pile of ash in Remus's small hands. It made everything else he'd ever experience feel so incredibly pointless by comparison.

"Sirr…rrr…iiiuuu…ssss…" Remus whined.

"Shhh, s'alright. I can wait—"

"No! Er... Move—you have to—aghh, move," said Remus, pushing down onto Sirius's prick.

Sirius was tempted to remain still— the thought of Remus fucking himself on his cock was rather tempting—but his hips had other ideas. Without conscious thought, Sirius thrust into Remus's tight, warm body.

He nearly came. If he hadn't stopped himself, Sirius thought he could come in one or two strokes, but he very much wanted to see Remus fall apart first, feel his muscles clench and tremble around him. He wanted to watch his brow furrow and his cheeks grow flushed and he wanted to see Moony's lips move the way he now knew they did when the smaller boy was very happy or very angry. Little fluttery unconscious movements, as though he were trying to speak, but words would not suffice. But most of all, he never wanted to be anywhere else ever again that was not _there_—exposed and sweating and touching every inch of Remus.

"Padfoot…" Remus muttered, eyes still shut tight.

Sirius realized he'd been staring and silently gave up his "This is Simply a Particularly Incredible Fuck" mantra. Without waiting to be asked again, Sirius began rocking his hips back and forth, concentrating on the way Remus's body seemed to cling to his cock, as though he was wanted there. It was intoxicating.

With every thrust, the pressure in Sirius's groin built, and he took hold of Remus's legs, pulling them up so that little more than the werewolf's shoulders touched the bedding. His pace increased and as much as he wanted to feel Moony come, he'd better get on with it, because Sirius knew he wouldn't last. In a moment of clarity, Sirius reached down and took hold of Remus's prick, stroking it in time with his movements, and was rewarded when Remus clenched himself around Sirius's erection.

Suddenly, there was no thought or clarity to be had, as Sirius drove into the boy beneath him, bed shaking, knees aching, mind on fire with a thousand different foreign sensations. Remus let out a groan and began to come all over Sirius's hand, his arse clenching and tightening with his own orgasm. Sirius surrendered. With a few final, sharp thrusts, Sirius attempted to bury his entire being inside Remus Lupin, and came deep within his small, scarred body, shuddering and shouting his name. Gooseflesh crept over Sirius's body as he emptied himself in burst after burst, until he was certain he had nothing left to give.

They collapsed.

Panting and sweating, the two lay quite still, each murmuring a series of obscenities directed at various deities and one another.

"Sirius?"

"Huh?"

"I, well, I may have lied."

"About what?"

"Expectations. Or well, that is to say, I think-- I think I umm—might have some."

"Fuck… Erh, right. Moony, I—well, what _are _they?"

"I expect you to do that again within the next twenty-four hours and every day for the rest our bloody lives, or I swear to fuck-all I'm going to stalk you like that Ravenclaw Chaser our third year."

"What if I _want_ you to stalk me?"

"Well, I could hide in your bushes, but what ever will the neighbors think?"

"Fuck the neighbors...

"That's a thought."

"Ugghhk, or don't! ..._Please_, don't? Oh, come off of it Moony, I said 'please'!"


End file.
